


Let Me Tell You ‘Bout the Birds and the Bees

by webcricket



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 20:12:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10316072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webcricket/pseuds/webcricket
Summary: Established relationship wherein Cas and the reader play a game and things get super fluffy and also super suggestive (translation: adult situation but not explicit).





	

“Flamingo.”

“No.” Luminous sapphire eyes fixed on your disappointed expression. Castiel’s mouth twitched, a minute amused smile passing fleetingly over his lips. Clasping long fingers upon crossed legs where he sat on the floor before you, his regard drifted thoughtfully up and to the right. “Shirt.”

Gnashing your teeth in mock annoyance, you clawed at the hem of the oversized Stones t-shirt you had on laundry day loan from Dean. You yanked the shirt over your head and tossed it into the waiting angel’s lap, silently thankful you happened to not only put on a bra, but a decent looking one to boot, that morning.

Gaze again dropping to you, his eyes admiringly roamed over the newly exposed flesh.

“Cas.” You blushed under his unabashed scrutiny, compelling his attention to return to your face. “Your turn.”

He peered into your hopeful aspect, demeanor calm. “Daffodil.”

“Chuck dammit, Cas! Yes. And I swear if you’re using your angel mojo to cheat I’m going to…”

“I’m not cheating.” He interrupted, scruffy chin crooked endearingly to one side.

“Says the fully clothed angel currently holding half of my clothing hostage.” You griped. Scooting closer, knees touching his now, you leaned in to study the steely depths of his eyes, seeking to accurately identify the bird he was thinking of at that very moment and win possession of one of the myriad of layers stacked upon his person. “I’ve got it this time, a kiwi!”

Cas’ features clouded apologetically, though he could not mask the enjoyment twinkling in his eyes. “Wrong again.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, closing your eyes and bobbing your head. “Are you sure?”

“I’m certain.”

When your eyelids popped open, you beheld a smile firmly embedded at the corner of his mouth.

“Pants.” The smile stretched to touch the opposite corner.

You scowled, flopping to your back, lifting your hips to shimmy out of too big grey sweatpants. Bunching the garment in your fists, you sat up and pressed it to his chest with a smirk. “You know Cas, I’m still wearing socks. There is a natural progression to this sort of thing.”

“Is there?” His eyes glinted mischievously, noting the way the smooth fabric of your undies perfectly hugged the curve of your hips. “The order in which one must shed an article of clothing when they fail to correctly identify what their opponent is thinking of was not expressly outlined in the rules of the game.”

“And you claimed not to understand the point of the game.” Wagging your tongue at the angel, you shifted to kneel, subconsciously drawn to the heat radiating from his figure, perching your palms on his awkwardly folded knees. “Fine, my turn. You’re never going to guess it this time.”

“Trillium, specifically white trillium.” He stated without hesitation.

“Nope.”

He narrowed his eyes, fingers gliding over your wrists with a chastising squeeze. “Y/N…”

“Okay, okay, it was white trillium.” You wriggled your wrists free to twine your fingers through his. Chewing the inside of your cheek, clearing your thoughts, you named the first bird to flit through your mind. “Sparrow.”

“Which one?”

“What?” You met his eyes, surprised at the question, tamping down your elation at possibly being right, simply repeating yourself as if it would add clarity. “A sparrow, you know. A sparrow.”

Cas’ brow quirked smugly askance. “Which type of sparrow. There are over 40 individual species classified as sparrows.”

“Cas, come on, have a little mercy.” You pouted, shoulders sloping, entreatingly batting your eyelashes.

He stared intensely into your pleading aspect, expression softening as though he might concede the point before he growled. “Socks.”

Sneering, you straightened up, breaking the false façade of supplication. “How chivalrous of you.” Reaching behind, you tugged the socks from your feet, tossing them over his shoulders before clambering into his lap, wrapping your legs about his waist, snaking an arm around his neck, and tousling your fingers through his dark hair. You playfully bopped his nose, bringing your forehead to lie on his. “Your move.”

Rough hands wandered the soft skin of your thighs and hips, meandering up your abdomen, thumbs stopping to nudge beneath the silky fabric of your bra. Lust blown pupils flitted between your gleaming eyes and slightly gaping pink flushed mouth. “Y/N, that is most definitely not a flower you are thinking of.”

“Hmm, right, guess it’s not.” Your hot breath ghosted across his mouth, lips hovering expectantly over his. “Are we still playing this silly game?”

Despite every fiber of his physical vessel urging him to take you then and there, his celestial being garnered great pleasure in teasing you and desired to continue to do so. He considered this flirting sort of foreplay almost as gratifying as observing you come undone at the ministrations of his angelic grace. “Y/N, you still have two articles of clothing to lose. The rules…”

“Platypus.” You whined impatiently, nose squishing nose.

Cas’ palm curled around your back, pinching the hook of your bra, relieving you of the garb, tone unwaveringly composed. “A platypus is a mammal, not a bird.”

“But they have duck bills.” You simpered, suggestively rolling your hips.

“That’s actually a very amusing story.” Cas’ hands drifted to casually explore the dimples of your lower back and arches of your undulating hips. “Gabriel was tasked with completing the creation orders for wood ducks, beavers, river otters, hagfish, and king cobras…”

“Cas.” You groaned, biting your lower lip, knotting the tan fabric of his trench coat tightly in your fists, grinding your hips deeper in protest.

“…he was never the most organized of my brothers. As a result, the creatures’ defining attributes became jumbled. In collecting these wayward creations, the platypus was overlooked. You see, he was also easily distracted. When my father discovered…”

“Castiel.” You breathlessly keened, body quivering from the friction alone, features desperately wanton.

“Yes, Y/N?” Aspect tilted inquiringly, smiling innocently, he slithered his palms to rub small tantalizingly coarse circles on the skin just inside your thighs.

Seizing his elbows, you inched his fingers closer to where you needed them most. Paying no heed to the fact you were skipping his turn, you panted a final guess. “Robin.”

He shook his head in the negative.

“You win.” Humming, lolling to nuzzle and pepper kisses up the line of his jaw, your whispering lips sought his ear. “Angel, your prize desperately wants accepting.”

Tangling his fingers into your hair to expose your neck, laving his tongue along your collarbone, his stubble tickled delicate flesh as he trailed wet kisses to suck and mark your pulse point, unhurriedly savoring the sweet taste of victory.


End file.
